


Companion

by IsobelSionisFalcone



Series: Northur Snapshots [5]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Pool Table Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 18:05:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsobelSionisFalcone/pseuds/IsobelSionisFalcone
Summary: Arthur travelled with the Sentinel to gather more intel. Just like any other companion, he has his own preferences...A.K.A My take on what would happen if everyone's favourite Elder travelled with the female sole survivor.





	Companion

Her visits to Sanctuary were never something Arthur enjoyed. This far-flung corner of the Commonwealth was elusive; the Brotherhood had little intel on any location North of Greygarden, so he agreed to travel with the Sentinel, in the interest of research. He was beginning to realise why she was hardly ever aboard the Prydwen.

"We've got another settlement asking for help, General," Preston informed her barely a moment after she'd set foot on the old road.

Nora didn't even ask what the job was. She simply restocked, made repairs to her power armour and left with Arthur in tow.

As the Elder found out, this was a recurring pattern. They traveled back and forth, left and right, to every type of settlement. They must have driven off a dozen Greenskin raiding parties, executed several groups of gunners and fixed a myriad of water pumps, turrets and Tato plants before they returned to the Red Rocket just after dusk.

"You don't sleep at Sanctuary?" he asked as she stood over the cooking pot.

"No," she replied shortly. "Too many memories. Stew will be done in a minute."

Arthur left it at that. His stomach growled and he was relieved when she dished up the Brahmin stew, along with a bottle of wine. He couldn't recall tasting anything so tender, so flavoursome in all his life. Twenty-two years spent without Nora's cooking? Well, there'd be plenty of time to make up for the lost time, he hoped.

It didn't take her long to clear up the dishes. She was obsessively organised. Everything had its place, a home that appeared to be almost clinically clean compared to Sanctuary. Nora had pulled out the weeds, repainted the rusting metal and set up furnishings both inside and out. They sat on the patio chairs she'd built outside beneath the roof, finishing the wine and gazing at the stars as the night sky rolled over.

[Arthur liked that.]

 

A trip to Orberland Station meant an early start and Arthur was glad he'd stocked up on fusion cores, because a group of gen one synths posed a larger threat than he'd assumed. He'd paused to reload his Gatling, Nora providing cover fire with her Minigun, when scattered lazer fire from a synth missing an arm caught his shoulder. It made it difficult to hold his large energy weapon and Nora noticed, throwing a Molotov Cocktail into the horde, a tactical distraction, before jabbing him with a Stimpak.

As the burned skin healed, he watched her unleash hell on the Institute abominations, cutting through them like a hot knife through butter. Arthur joined the fight as soon as he was able and together, they overcame the group. When the metallic remains of artificial bodies scattered the floor, dead yellow eyes staring up at the sky, the settlers thanked them, gave them one hundred caps for their help and went back to farming.

On the way back, Nora asked him if he liked Tarberries. He said yes, and she said good, because she made Tarberry jam earlier in the week and it would be perfect for lunch between a few slices of bread. She apologised about potentially hurting him with the Stimpak and he dismissed the notion; it was certainly preferable to the lazer burn.

"If there's one thing I love doing," she began as they crossed the bridge leading to the Cambridge ruins, "it's turning synths to ashes. I hope that one day, we'll have rooted them out and there'll be no more to speak of."

[Arthur liked that.]

 

Goodneighbour was a hell hole, as far as Elder Maxson was concerned. Streets lined with filthy degenerates, criminals and Godless heathens. It made him sick to his stomach. Nora didn't seem to mind. She strode into 'Kill or Be Killed' with an air of confidence and familiarity that concerned him more than the sardonic Assaultron.

"And this works?" Nora asked, brow raised as KL-E-O offered a mod for her Minigun. "Ashmaker isn't going to backfire the moment I use it?"

"Each weapon is tested on someone who deserved it," the bot answered. "Purchase a variety in case of boredom."

"Right..." Nora sighed. "Here are the caps for it. If this kills me, do me a favour and destroy it, will you?"

How it was possible that the Assaultron could appear to be mildly displeased, Arthur would never know. "If it can still kill, I can still sell it."

After the Sentinel had sold off a few rusty wrenches and broken alarm clocks to Daisy, they went to the Third Rail for a drink. He hated it in there as much as he did outside. Dark, dingy and full of ghouls. A living nightmare, but once again, Nora strode over to the bar without a trace of uncertainty and ordered a beer for each of them. She seemed to notice his discomfort and sat near the back of the room, away from the more crowded areas. It also allowed for more private conversations, something she didn't seem to mind so much after she was liqueured up.

"Did you... Do this kind of thing a lot before the war?"

She gave him a pointed look, the dim light throwing dark, angular shadows across her pale face. "Go to bars? Of course. This was where the action always happened. Drunk fights, flirting and guys smacking your ass if you were hot enough."

"And you enjoyed that sort of attention?" he asked. He did not attempt to mask his disapproval.

"It made me feel like I was attractive," she shrugged. "I know it's hard to understand postwar, but body image was a big thing back then," she explained. "We didn't have to worry about survival because we had everything we needed and more, so being attractive was more of an issue than it is now."

Arthur took to observing the patrons amongst the lazy atmosphere of the place, lounging on sofas, sipping at their drinks and making idle conversation. A den of iniquity and he was sat in the corner like an omniscient spectre, too proud, too uncertain to make contact with his surroundings. Nora, of course, took to observing the singer, who threw her an alluring wink and a million-cap smile. A pink dusting coloured Nora's cheeks and her green eyes held unwavering focus on the entertainment. Arthur watched her tongue dart out to moisten her full, pink lips, his heart thumping a little harder against his ribs.

Suddenly, she downed the last of her beer (a good few swallows) and exhaled determinedly. "If you'll excuse me, Elder, I feel like scoring tonight."

And she was gone. No explanation, no apology, nothing before she disappeared into the cacophony of clinking glass, coughs and Jet inhalers. A moment later, she appeared next to the singer at the bar, all seductive smiles and good posture, chest naturally pushed forward. He couldn't hear them from where he sat, but he ground his teeth as Nora offered to buy the other woman a drink. He caught what she said then.

"I came for the booze, but the music is far better."

"Flatterer," Magnolia accused with a smirk. "I think we're going to get along just fine."

[Arthur hated that.]

 

Thankfully, the pair didn't stay the night in Goodneighbour. He might have taken to getting well and truly sloshed if they had. Instead, they smashed their way through Boston's Muties and ferals to clear a path to Diamond City. Arthur was pleased that she'd bought a house because he certainly didn't feel like bedding down at the Dugout. He was more than pleased to see Home Plate had running water, working electricity and every other appliance a home could possibly need.

Nora had decorated it with a pre-war flair; faded green wallpaper with gold stripes and patters, several paintings of all shapes and sizes pinned to the walls, a sitting area with two red leather armchairs and a chaise longue to match carefully positioned around the coffee table, and there was even a pool table at the far end of the room. When he glanced to the upper level, the sight of a Brotherhood banner displayed proudly above her bed made his heart swell.

Nora collapsed on the chaise longue with a heavy sigh and was still for a moment, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. Arthur was transfixed, taking in the sight of her slim body with curves in all the right places. She opened her eyes and leaned forward to unlace her boots, the comfortable silence broken as he blushed, a reaction to his inward thoughts.

"Fancy eating?" she asked. "I've got a couple of fresh Brahmin steaks in the fridge."

Arthur nodded perhaps a little too eagerly and Nora smiled. "Great. I'll get started. There's some melon for dessert, too. I forgot about that..."

Dessert. How long had it been since he'd heard that word?

As she fired up the stove, Arthur took a seat in one of the armchairs and plucked the copy of 'Guns and Bullets' from the table. "How long did all of this take you?" he asked.

Nora gave a thoughtful hum as she placed a large pan on the stove. "I bought it a few months ago. I'm always looking to add something tasteful here and there. Home is where the heart is, as they say..."

Arthur's mouth watered as she placed the cuts of meat into the pan and seasoned them. The sizzling sound that followed filled the air as much as the smell and he found it difficult to think about anything else whilst it was cooking. In that moment, with Nora standing over the stove and Arthur reading while he waited, he imagined that this was what pre-war life had been like, that the bombs had never fallen, that this was Nora's clean, pre-war kitchen, and he her husband.

[Arthur liked that.]

 

After the most delicious meal the Elder could remember eating, Nora offered to teach him how to play pool. Such entertainment was not usually a part of his overcrowded schedule, so he welcomed the opportunity to think about something else, other than gunning down enemies of the Brotherhood.

"Okay, so once the balls are set up in the triangle..." she began, someone has to break..."

Arthur watched as she bent over the table, imagining scenarios that were all kinds of dirty, and she struck the cue ball. The crowd of red and yellow split off in all directions and she straightened up with a satisfied smile.

"OK, your turn. You can only hit the cue ball, remember."

Adopting the same position that she had only moments ago, he lined up the cue with the white ball, but Nora stopped him.

"Here, let me show you," she said, ducking under his arm. He could feel his cock hardening as her backside was practically pressed right against it, the warmth of her body seeping through his coat and her smell, like warm Tarberries, was utterly intoxicating. "Move your hand a little further down," she advised, placing her fingers over his and guiding his hand. "Right there. Now, place your index finger over the tip of the cue, like this..."

Once again, her dainty hand rested atop his, sending sparks down his spine. Arthur was far from attentive as she turned, still effectively pinned beneath him as she leaned back and rested her elbows against the pool table.

"Think you've got it?" she asked with a smirk, rosy cheeks glowing in the light.

"I believe so," he replied, noting the short distance between their mouths.

A moment passed in which she looked from his icy blue eyes to his lips, as if testing his boundaries, seeing how far he'd let her go before the 'Elder' in him surfaced. Arthur reached up to softly entwine a hand through her hair, allowing her to seal their lips at long last. The kiss was slow and gentle as they tentatively explored this new dimension of their relationship, gradually growing more confident and involving tongues and teeth.

Arthur nibbled her bottom lip before pulling away, dropping the cue and gripping her thighs, lifting Nora onto the edge of the table. Her lips sought his as he pulled down her uniform's zip and he shed his coat not long after, mouth retuning to hers briefly before he tongued a trail down her neck. He tasted sweat and perfume and something else that was just... Nora, not like any other scent, soft and refreshing - pre-war.

She tugged his zip all the way down as he nibbled along her collarbone, pausing to groan and shudder when he found a sweet spot. They stripped down to their waists and as Nora ran her hands up Arthur's chest, the dusting of dark tickling her palms, he mouthed down her throat and unclipped her plain white bra. He pulled it down her arms and discarded it, positive she wouldn't mind where it ended up as long as it was off.

The Elder placed a hand on her chest and she fell back against the table, smudges of blue cue chalk visible in her hair. He trailed kisses down her breast and sucked her rosy nipple into his mouth, teasing it to a hard peak with nips and licks. He gave the other the same treatment as she arched upwards, gasping and writing in his grasp. After unlacing her boots and yanking off the remainder of the suit, Arthur stood back to admire his beautiful Sentinel and she sent a seductive smile his way, lifting her arms submissively above her head.

Maxson licked his lips, running on nothing but instinctual fumes as he removed her knickers and pulled his uniform low enough to expose his hard length. He ran a few fingers through her folds, pleased to find them slick, hot and ready for him. He sunk a finger into her entrance, rubbing her clit with his thumb and she gave a long moan of bliss, walls tightening as he added a second finger, stretching her methodically. He treated it like a battle plan, easing, probing until something gave and she relaxed, toes curling.

"Sir..." Nora begged, back bowing away from the table.

"I think, given the... intimate nature of our actions, you can call me Arthur," he said, withdrawing his hand and leaning over her. He made sure Nora watched as he sucked his fingers clean, gazing at each other intently.

"Arthur..." she whispered against his lips. "Please."

"Tell me you want this," he said, gripping her thighs and lining himself up with her entrance. "I want to hear you say it, Nora."

The Sentinel thought she might burst with desperation if he didn't fuck her soon. "I want it, Arthur," she whispered. "I want you."

Nora realised just how big he was as the warm head of his cock, slick with precum, eased slowly into her tight cleft. She released little gasps and moans as her body adjusted to his impressive girth and he uttered praises as he inched deeper. When he hilted at last, he gave her a long moment to become accustomed to the sensation of being full up. After so long without this kind of contact, she was glad he started slow. She'd have been quite sore if he hadn't.

"Fuck me, Arthur," Nora begged after the light sting faded, large green eyes boring into his. "Please."

The Elder complied, throwing her legs over his shoulders to change the angle of his thrusts. Nora had never felt anything quite like it, Arthur's hips snapping against hers as he fucked her into the table. Already, she was crying out as one of his hands entwined in her hair, making the pool table shake and bang as he marked her neck with teeth and tongue. Nora lifted her hips to meet his thrusts as much as she could, but he largely controlled the rapid rhythm, hitting the sensitive spot on her inner walls with every rock forwards.

Nora's nails dug into his shoulders and Arthur growled against her skin. She was drawing close to her climax, breathing hard and shaking as she begged him not to stop. He acquiesced, barking out groans as he throbbed within her, his fist tightening in her hair. Her name left his lips amongst a string of curses and he dropped his free hand to rub her clit in furious circles. That was Nora's undoing; her back arched and she gave a keening cry as Maxson fucked her through her orgasm, mouthing her throat and his beard scratched deliciously against her neck.

The sight of his Sentinel, sweating and blushing beneath him, made Arthur's gut twist pleasantly. Her walls contracting around his cock ensured that he reached his end before long, spilling into her as his muscles wound tight with orgasmic tension. With a long groan, he lay his head against her chest as they panted into the humid air. They were hot, clammy and sated, but neither felt the need to pull away, relaxing into this blossoming romantic relationship - until Nora felt his seed trickling down her thigh.

"I have a bed upstairs, you know," she offered.

[Arthur loved that.]


End file.
